


Yours to Ruin

by FormidablePassion



Series: SPN Kink Bingo 2016 [10]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Begging, Blood, Blood Drinking, Blood Kink, Bloodplay, Bondage, Established Relationship, F/M, Flogging, Grace Binding, Implied Sexual Content, Rare Pairings, Supernatural Kink Bingo 2016, Tumblr: spnkinkbingo, at least not here, like so rare it didn't exist before now
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-01
Updated: 2016-11-01
Packaged: 2018-08-28 11:57:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,253
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8444914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FormidablePassion/pseuds/FormidablePassion
Summary: It isn't often Abaddon and Michael get time alone, they have to make the most of every moment they get.  He could feel each and every cell screaming down the atoms as she ripped into his flesh with sharp leather until it felt like flames licking against his skin. The contrast between his cool grace simmering below the surface and the boiling heat of his skin had him biting his bottom lip to stay quiet. Such a human thing to do, and he knew that she enjoyed it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> First off, apparently this is this first ever Abaddon/Michael pairing here on Ao3. I'm both proud of that and disappointed, these two have so much potential.  
> Next, this was written for [spnkinkbingo](http://spnkinkbingo.tumblr.com/) square: Flogging  
> As never, this work is edited and beta'd. Huge thanks go to [Mayalaen](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Mayalaen/pseuds/Mayalaen) and [pod7et](http://archiveofourown.org/users/poD7et/pseuds/poD7et) for the amazing beta work on this.  
> Here goes nothing.  
> Enjoy!

Her fiery red hair glimmered like a halo when the light from the torches caught in its strands—the only light in the dark, dank prison. The image of the woman before him radiated a serene peacefulness, something divine and pure.The image was misleading. It was pure only in its evil. Her bright red lips pulled taut into a wide, blinding smile, beautiful white teeth on display. She moved again. Closer, he realized. His hand struggled against the silver cuffs around his wrists, splaying him out with little give. Not that it mattered; the engravings on the cuffs were enough to bind his grace. A low burning beneath his skin danced wildly, begged to burst free, to heal his vessel and to smite the unholy creature before him.

  
  


She watched him closely. Her smile got impossibly wider. “Oh, I’m not finished with you yet, darling.”

 

She pulled her arm back, and with expert ease it glided forward, bringing leather down on his chest with a force he didn’t expect from the woman wielding the weapon. The thin leather strips slashed across the meat of his breast, slicing as effectively as razors. He held back his cry, jaw firm in defiance, as he felt blood slowly seep from small cuts upon his welted red flesh.

  
  


Her chuckle at his stubborn silence washed over him, like the sweat running down his body and soaking into his wounds, the salt making it feel like his flesh was slowly catching fire. He sneered at her amusement.

  
  


She stepped forward, closer yet. Leaning close to his ear, he could feel her breath, little puffs of hot air on his throat. She whispered, “Come now, Michael, you know you want to give in. It’s okay. I won’t tell anyone.”

  
He tried to suppress the shiver but couldn’t, earning himself another low, sinful chuckle of delight. She nearly purred, “I love the way you react to me.”

  
  


He turned his head quickly, but she was already too far away.

  
  


He heard her heels click on the stones below them as she moved, stilling behind him. He could feel her there. Her presence was potent, an impressive force waiting to burst free. The tension was palpable, like a thread being pulled slowly. He wondered how much longer until it would snap, the ends fraying.

  
  


She was quiet, calm. If he didn’t feel her eyes on him, making the hair on the back of his neck rise, goosebumps cascading over his body, he would have doubted she was there at all.

  
  


He took a slow, deep breath, taking stock of the injuries on his body, allowing himself time to feel the ache in his muscles, the sting of each cut as he cataloged them. He felt his grace pull outward from the center of his being once more, doing its best to fight against the bindings. He almost whimpered at the anguish it caused.

  
  


Three more blows landed on his back, and he finally cried out.

  
  


“Yes.” She moaned, “Let me hear you, sweet angel. You know what it does to me, how much I love it.”

  
She ran her fingers through the blood trickling down his body as she walked back around, doodling crimson shapes and designs over his tan skin. She stopped in front of him again, lazily pulling her finger from low on his abdomen over hard, straining muscles. She brought her fingers to his lips, where she painted them red with his own blood, a color that almost matched her own lips.

  
  


“Look at this vessel,” she said, voice low and husky. “He definitely took after his daddy.” She took her full lower lip between her teeth and gave an appreciative noise while looking him over. “Come on, give me more.” She dug her nails into his chest and slowly dragged them down, tearing flesh, more blood oozing out. He screwed up his face in pain, but refused her the satisfaction of his noises.

  
  


She gave a little murmur of disappointment as she pushed her lip out in a pout and gave another angelic look that could fool anyone. “Well, I suppose I’ll have to try harder.” She pulled her hand away and licked each finger provocatively, holding eye contact, and moaning softly as she cleaned them of his blood.

As soon as she was finished, she quickly stepped back, lashing out with skill only learned from years of torture and maiming.

  
  


He could feel each and every cell screaming down the atoms as she ripped into his flesh with sharp leather until it felt like flames licking against his skin. The contrast between his cool grace simmering below the surface and the boiling heat of his skin had him biting his bottom lip to stay quiet. Such a human thing to do, and he knew that she enjoyed it.

  
  


Her breathing was rapid, uneven. Her mouth open in a smile when she took in her work. His flesh seared as her eyes roamed over him, taking in the amount of blood dripping down his body.

“Oh yes, Michael.” Breathless, she strode over to him, dropping the whip to the floor. Her hands, almost as hot as fire, felt cool on his abused skin as she placed one on each side, fingers fitting in the grooves of his ribs, holding him steady. “Come on, Angel,” she growled at him and her eyes flashed black, betraying her demon nature. He inhaled sharply.

  
  


Suddenly, she dipped her head. He couldn’t hold it in any longer as her tongue pressed against his stomach, lapping blood from his bellybutton. He let out a low, broken groan. He felt her lips, tingling against his skin, pull into a smile.

  
  


“Give me more,” she purred and trailed her tongue up over his abdomen, exploring the planes of his skin, scorching the areas she had damaged.

  
  


He felt the string pull, heard the snap, and gave in.

  
  


“ _Fuck,_ Abaddon.” It was a broken plea.

  
She moaned against his skin as her tongue made its way further up, stopping at his chest and licking, sucking and biting each nipple in turn, cleaning them of his blood, drawing out moans and eventually whimpers.

  
“Please…” It was the prayer of a shattered angel at the mercy of his demon.

  
  


Her lips made their way up the length of his throat, tasting the sweat and blood she had adorned him with, finally catching his lips, kissing him deeply, cleaning the blood from them, licking into his mouth, and swallowing down his moans.

  
  


Pulling back only enough to look into his blue eyes, a hint of grace threatening there, making his eyes shine, he looked completely wrecked.

  
  


“If I take these off,” she whispered, her hands trailing torturously up his arms to the cuffs that circled his wrists, “will you be a good little angel and keep your grace in check?” One of her hands moved just as slowly back down his chest. “Only use it to heal the worst of the wounds? So I can see my work.” Her fingers danced down, grazing across the hard length of him, straining against his blood-soaked jeans.

  
She breathed out, “If you can be a good boy, Michael, I promise I’ll take care of this for you.”

She smiled when his tongue darted out and licked at her lips. “Maybe when I’m done.” She gave him a suggestive eyebrow glancing at the cuffs binding him and winked.

He nodded and tried to thrust against her hand, needing more.

  
  


Always needing more.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> If you enjoyed this and want to come yell at me about it you can find me on Tumblr as [FormidablePassion](http://formidablepassion.tumblr.com)


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